And then he does something that stalls my breath.
He drops to one knee.
The others follow. Even Jarek has reappeared and sheathed his swords to bow.
A strange, numbness washes over me. This is all happening too fast. Only months ago, I was a thief-for-hire, sent here to steal a stone. Now, I’m being handed a kingdom.
“But I don’t want to be a queen.”
Zander chuckles as he peers up at me. “And that is precisely why you must be one.”
I reach up, tentatively stroking a finger over a sharp edge. It pricks me, drawing blood.
Childlike laughter and music curl in my ears.
“I promised you a queen’s quarters, did I not?”
From my balcony, I turn to find Zander leaning against the door frame, arms folded across his broad chest. “You did.”
“Does it meet your standards?” he asks with mock concern.
My gaze drifts over the spacious suite, from the murals painted on the vaulted ceilings to the grand stone fireplace to the double doors that lead into a luxurious bedroom of rich, dark fabrics. Beyond is a closet full of silk gowns and a bath chamber of copper and glass where hot water flows with a simple flick of my wrist on the knob.
“It’s adequate.” My new rooms are twice the size of those in Cirilea. The entire place glows with candlelight and smells of jasmine, though I haven’t found a single bloom yet.
He smirks as he strolls in, his footfalls hollow against the polished marble floors.
“Have you found your king’s quarters yet?”
“It’s likely a dirty dungeon in the bowels of the castle. I don’t believe the nymphs have any use for me.” His eyes graze the enormous bed waiting for us to fill it.
“Did Jarek or Elisaf find anything interesting out there?” They left to secure the castle nearly an hour ago.
“Interesting or worrisome … I suppose we will see which soon enough. Jarek has returned with Eden. The mortals are safely inside, and the gates are secure. The Legion will remain vigilant for threats. We will decide what to do with everyone after a night’s rest.”
“Abarrane?”
“She is outside at the wagons where she can properly question the sapling without the worry of disturbing anyone.”
I shudder. If Abarrane has given thought to that, she must intend something especially gruesome. “Is she safe out there?”
“Loth and Horik are with her, and they can reach the first gate should they need to.”
“The Ybarisans will look for me, if the message you left at Kamstead reaches them.”
“Eventually,” he agrees, his eyes drifting from my unadorned head to the side table where I’ve left my thorny crown. “But they will not get past those gates if we do not wish them to.”
“Gesine?” I ask, but I already know the answer.
“In the library, taking stock of all those rare books. Many are written in that same language. I imagine the knowledge within those pages will satisfy her curiosity until the day she dies.” He leans against the balcony rail, peering out over the city landscape. “I know she has been an invaluable guide for you, but she still is and will always be Mordain. Do not be surprised when she suggests notifying her scribe sisters of this place and of you, a key caster queen, anointed by the nymphs.”
“We can’t keep Ulysede secret forever.” What will the guild say when they learn of me?
He sighs. “No, I suppose not.”
From our perch at the top of the tallest castle tower, we have a bird’s-eye view of the secret city behind the mountain wall. Thousands of tiny flames twinkle in the silent night, marking streets lined with empty houses waiting for residents, shops waiting for visitors, cafés waiting for the smell of baked bread to waft from their windows. Beyond where the lights cut off is only darkness. I’m curious what I’ll discover there tomorrow, in the light of day. The other side of this mountain wall, or something else unexpected?
“It seems too good to be true.” What dark secrets does Ulysede keep from us? From me, its chosen queen, according to prophecy?